


Coloring

by blumvale (sailorpipn)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Babies, Fluff, M/M, Painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorpipn/pseuds/blumvale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>adamantstove posted this on tumblr:</p>
<p>Clint/Coulson ‘Imagine your OTP’ though for the day:</p>
<p>Arguing over debating nursery wallpaper and decor</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coloring

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it's been almost 5 months since I wrote anything. I'm thrilled to have been inspired by this passing tumblr idea.

“Hmm,” Clint twirled his paintbrush like a drumstick while he stared at the wall. “I still don’t like this shade of yellow.” Narrowing his eyes, he used one end of the brush to reach under the neck of his t-shirt to scratch his back. “Oh, paint…” he grumbled when he realized he’d used the wrong end. Next to him, Phil let out a small huff of a laugh, but quickly schooled his features when Clint turned to him. “I’m telling you, this yellow flash,” he made a sweeping gesture to the paint swatch in Phil’s hand and grimaced. “Is too bright, too dark, too something! It doesn’t look good with the other two colors we picked.”

“You mean the two other colors you picked. As it stands right now, the only thing you let me pick was whether we’d paint or have wallpaper. And really, I think you wanted paint all along and just fought with me for the fun of it.”

“That’s not-” Clint cut off to think. After a long pause, continued, “That’s not true. You… you picked the crib! I had to listen to you go on and on and on about that [Larkin](http://www.potterybarnkids.com/products/larkin-4-in-1-crib/?pkey=ccribs&) crib you ordered from Pottery Barn Kids.” Clint turned and put his hands on his hips. Quickly, he looked down to make sure the right end of the paintbrush was sticking out. Though it didn’t matter; he had way more paint on him than the wall had on it.

“’It’s practical, Clint,’” he parroted. “’It changes into a toddler bed for when she’s older.’” Clint rolled his eyes. “’And then, it can be a full-sized bed when she’s even older than that! Ha!’”

“You do a terrible impression of me,” Phil replied with a mock sigh. “And I’m sure I never said, ‘ha.’”

“I may have ad-libbed that.”

“And,” Phil continued as if Clint hadn’t interrupted. “Picking the crib still only took what, maybe an hour of research. You have been going over paint swatches with everyone in the tower for the last month; driving everyone crazy, I might add. At this rate, we’ll never get paint on the walls and our little girl will come home to nothing.”

“You bite your tongue, Phil Coulson. I, I mean we, are getting this done today!” Reaching up to stretch, Clint made sure to move to and fro so that his shirt rode up. It always worked in his favor to show a little skin, even if said skin had some light mulberry, aka purple, on it. “You shouldn’t have let me buy so much paint,” he muttered as he closed one can and opened another.

“Oh yeah,” Phil grumbled back. “I let you…” Still, Phil moved to help pour some of the june day in the paint pan. He’d never admit it, but Phil thought Clint was right; this shade of yellow looked better with the purple and peach (heavenly song) than the other.

The two men were about halfway done with the main wall, the one the crib and changing would be in front of, when Clint paused.

Phil sucked in a deep breath through his nose and turned to his husband. “I swear to god, Clint, if you change your-”

Phil couldn’t continue because Clint had rolled his roller down from Phil’s hairline to his chin.

“What!” Phil exclaimed, spitting some of the paint off his lips. “Are you out-” But he was again cut off when Clint reached into the can of paint and laid a heavy hand on the top of Phil’s head.

“Well aren’t you pretty?” Clint teased, a bright grin on his face.

For half a second Phil deliberated his next move. For the other half second, he reasoned with himself, ‘we can always buy more paint,’ and remembered the large plastic canvas they had to protect the floor. “You’re dead,” he declared as he dodged past Clint to grab the can. Wasting no time, Phil dumped the remaining contents on Clint’s head.

“Ahh!” Clint yelled and tackled Phil to the ground. The two men rolled around on the floor, each trying to get the upper hand. They knocked over the purple paint and as they continued to grapple with each other; the paint turned into a brown mess.

After several minutes of thrashing on the floor, Phil managed to sit heavily on Clint’s waist and hold Clint down. Chest to chest, Phil relented just enough to entwine his and Clint’s fingers.

“Still pretty,” Clint teased as he reached his head up to meet Phil’s lips.

“I know,” Phil replied just before he let Clint reach his destination.

“Do you think,” Clint asked, after he and Phil had kissed like teenagers for several minutes. “Tony would let me paint the rest of the tower?”

Rolling his eyes, Phil let go of one of Clint’s hands so that he could pinch Clint’s side. Clint groaned and arched away from the touch. “I want a divorce,” Phil muttered before rolling to the side and laying down on the disgusting floor. Some of the paint was beginning to dry and felt very uncomfortable.

Lifting up their still entwined hands, Clint laughed, “Sure you do.”

They laid together for a little while, basking in their uninterrupted time. They knew they didn’t have too much of it left.

“The [bedding](http://www.potterybarnkids.com/products/gray-elephant-nursery-bedding/?cm_src=AutoRel) Natasha got us…” Clint turned onto his side and stared at Phil. “Does it go with this color scheme?”

Reaching behind him, Phil grabbed his roller and gabbed it into Clint’s face. “Shut up,” he ordered.

“Yes, dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it.
> 
> all errors are mine


End file.
